Chapter X: A Heavier Blade

THE NEXT DAY...

The morn was bright. Sunlight poured through the curtains in slender beams.

Yet Mavie lay abed still, caught within uneasy dreams.

She dreamt of a hill beneath the setting sun — soft orange skies above.

There, beside her, sat a young boy — his face blurred, yet smiling.

His lips moved — words unspoken, lost upon the wind.

Then all faded.

Birdsong stirred her from slumber.

With a sigh, Mavie opened her eyes, gazing up at the ceiling.

Mavie's thought:

"Why doth such dreams trouble me so? And why... doth my heart ache with longing I know not?"

She turned her gaze away and sat up.

Stretching her arms, she rose and went about her morning as was her wont:

— She brushed her hair.

— She washed her body

— She dressed in armor, binding her long black hair.

— She took up her duties.

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An hour hence, during a brief respite, Mavie sat alone upon a bench, eyes to the sky.

Then came Theron, striding into the courtyard.

Theron: "Lady Mavie, might I have a word?"

She stood, straight-backed, bowing with courtesy.

Mavie: "Aye, Your Grace."

Theron: Nodding. "Aurelia hath found a cavern deep within the woods — vast, old. 'Tis said a dragon may yet slumber there. With summer nigh, I would bid thee explore it anon. If any bounty or resource be found to aid the realm—"

Mavie: Softly, yet firm. "Forgive me, sire, but I may not this day. The young soldiers require my training... I cannot leave them wanting. I beg thy pardon." She bowed again.

Theron: Pausing. "Well... I understand. Mayhap next week, then?"

Mavie cast her gaze aside. She did not answer.

Theron: Sighing. "I see..."

Mavie: "I thank thee for thy understanding, my lord. Now, I must to my duties." She bowed, turning to depart.

Theron: "Wait! Mavie—!" He hastened toward her.

In his haste, his hand caught the fine chain at her neck. The necklace snapped — the heart-shaped pendant tumbled to the earth.

Mavie: Gasped. Her eyes widened.

Theron: Startled. "By the stars — Lady Mavie — I meant no harm—!"

He stopped short — for tears welled in her eyes, unbidden.

Theron: "Please, forgive me—"

Wordless, Mavie bent to gather the broken necklace. When she rose, her voice was cold as steel:

Mavie: "Your Grace... 'twould serve thee well to mind thy hands." Her fingers tightened upon the pendant.

"My day hath been ill already... and now this. I have lost and broken much — I would not see this among them."

She wiped her tears swiftly and turned away.

Mavie: "Pray, grant me leave. I have no wish to tarry further."

With that, she strode off, clutching the broken charm.

Theron stood, stricken and silent, the words dying upon his lips.

Mavie walked on, her steps slow and heavy as she made her way toward the training grounds.

Yet her heart weighed more than her armor. She halted mid-step, leaning her back against the cold stone wall.

Sliding down, she bent her knees and let her head fall forward.

In her trembling hands, the broken necklace gleamed faintly.

She stared at it — lips pressed tight, breath shivering.

A tear slipped free. Then another.

Softly, brokenly, she whispered:

Mavie: "Why... why doth all I love fall to ruin?" Her voice caught; a quiet sob escaped her.

She buried her face against her knees, shoulders trembling.

She wept — not loudly, but with the sorrow of one who held too much within.

Then... a small voice broke the stillness.

Young boy: "Lady Mavie...? What dost thou mean?"

Startled, Mavie glanced up.

There stood young Anderson, one of the squires, gazing at her with wide, innocent eyes.

Mavie: "Ah—Anderson. I... I saw thee not." She wiped hastily at her face, standing with forced composure.

"Thou hast come to await my teaching, aye?"

The boy nodded shyly.

Mavie: Her voice soft. "Very well, then. Let us not tarry. Come."

Without a smile, without further word, Mavie turned and began walking, leading the boy back to the others.

Her gaze remained low — her heart, no lighter than before...

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An hour had passed.

The sun hung high, casting long shadows across the training yard.

Mavie: "This shall suffice for this day. You are dismissed."

The young squires and trainees hastened to gather their gear, murmuring amongst themselves as they began to drift away.

But one lingered.

Anderson, the small boy, approached quietly. He reached up, small fingers curling around the edge of Mavie's armor.

Anderson: "Lady Mavie...? Might I ask... why were you weeping?"

Mavie's eyes widened faintly, caught off guard.

She knelt slightly to meet his gaze, her tone gentle — though a shadow still rested in her voice.

Mavie: "Ah... that is a matter most personal, young Anderson. It is kind of thee to care, but fret not. Go now — play with thy friends. I am well enough." She placed a soft hand atop his head, giving a light, reassuring pat.

Anderson held her gaze a moment longer, thoughtful — then nodded and ran off to join the others, his small feet pattering across the stone.

At last, Mavie stood alone.

She looked down to her hand. There, still curled in her palm, lay the broken necklace — the small heart-shaped charm glinting faintly.

With a slow breath, Mavie looked skyward. The clouds drifted soft and pale above. She sighed... long and weary...

In the quiet of her chamber, Mavie sat at her small wooden table, fingers deftly working to mend the broken necklace. After much care, the fine lace was secured once more, the heart-shaped charm glinting softly in the afternoon light. She fastened it around her neck and let out a breath of quiet relief. It brought a small comfort to her heart.

Just then, a knock came upon the door.

Rising, she crossed the room and opened it to find Aurelia and a young maid standing beyond.

Maid: "Good afternoon, Lady Mavie. I know thou art weary this day, but the farmers wait at the gate, hoping for audience with thee and Lady Aurelia." She bowed respectfully.

Mavie: "Farmers, is it...?" She thought for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Very well."

She stepped out, closing the door behind her, and followed them through the halls.

Upon reaching the outer gate, they found three farmers waiting anxiously. The maid gave a polite bow and excused herself, leaving Mavie and Aurelia before the men.

Mavie: "Good sirs. Speak — what dost thou require of us?"

One of the farmers stepped forward, hat in hand.

Farmer: "Lady Mavie, Lady Aurelia… we know well ye must be busy, but... the fields fare poorly. The summer sun draws nigh, and the crops — they wither. Soon there shall be naught to harvest, and the kingdom's stores may empty."

Farmer 2: "Aye... and if ye would lend us aid in this hour — though we know 'tis not your charge — we would be most grateful..." He trailed off, sighing.

Mavie folded her arms, thoughtful.

Mavie: "Help, ye say..."

Aurelia shifted beside her, arms crossed.

Aurelia: "Forgive me, but I... am not quite fond of fa—"

Mavie: "We accept."

Aurelia blinked, eyes widening. "What—? Mavie...!"

The third farmer beamed.

Farmer 3: "Truly? Ye have our thanks, m'lady. We shall lead thee to the fields at once."

With a curt nod, Mavie strode forward to follow, her steps steady.

Aurelia: "Ah! Mavie — wait!" she called, hurrying after them pouting.